A Room with a View

Most of the time, my favorite perch (the kitchen, of course) on top of the 100 year old house we rent, affords me an okay view . . . Many dogs being walked, joggers, bikers with much brawn puffing up the hill in the damp weather, couples on strolls, even a kitty on a leash with a curious young chap . . . But these past few days have changed all that and I'm simply enchanted by the delicate perfectly pink petals dancing in the breeze on the side of our kitchen window.

After much complaining and many California-laced fantasies, good weather has (sort of) arrived in Portland. The blossoms outside my kitchen are in full glory. We now even have a little privacy between patio with the smoking nurses at the old folks home next door and me scuttling about in D's pale green bathrobe, the one with the pockets falling apart and I refuse to repair . . . The flowers are downright miraculous all over town -- their colors ranging from the palest, most ethereal white to bright blues, yellows and pinks. It is a feast not for my tummy, but for my eyes -- a treat in itself! Now for a walk (and a smelling of neighborhood flowers!) to the library to return my beloved friend, My Life in France.